


The Band Plays On

by Zannolin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, LOOK ITS A TITANIC AU OF COURSE THEY DIE SORRY, M/M, RMS Titanic, Titanic AU, blame kriisykins, i guess they die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zannolin/pseuds/Zannolin
Summary: Keith, a steward aboard the maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic, is merely trying to make it to America. He wasn't prepared to fall in love.





	The Band Plays On

He comes aboard the _Titanic_ wide-eyed and wondering, and his awe is contagious.   
  
Having familiarized himself with the massive vessel for the sake of his job, Keith has lost some of the _Titanic_ 's initial magic. It's something he never realized before Lance.   
  
It all starts with a sparkling pair of blue eyes and an easy grin. _Just another stuck-up first class passenger for me to escort_ , he thinks.   
  
But there's nothing stuck-up about Lance. He's full of joy, not pride or arrogance. On the way to his cabin, he chatters amiably, telling Keith how he has been at school in England, paid for by an eccentric uncle – "I mean, Uncle Coran's not _crazy_...no, he actually kind of is. But a good crazy!" – and now he gets to travel back to America for his brother's wedding. His excitement about seeing his family is palpable. It puts an ache in Keith's chest.

 

* * *

 

He had shown the other boy to his cabin, thinking that would be the end of it.  
  
It isn't.   
  
Somehow, Lance takes a liking to Keith, keeps seeking him out – to talk; to stand at the railing when no one else is on deck, letting the frigid sea breeze whip at their cheeks and hair.   
  
Keith can't understand it, can't fathom why a first class passenger – a beautiful boy made of freckles and sunshine – would want to spend time with a steward.   
  
It happens in the predawn twilight one chilled morning. Lance has taken to rising early so they can steal a few moments before the other passengers begin to rise and Keith's duties pull him elsewhere. After hearing the other boy chatter about the members of his extensive family at length, Keith had haltingly revealed the details of his orphaning – told how he's now travelling to live with his brother in Boston.   
  
"I'm sorry," Lance says quietly, and for once in his life, Keith knows the intent behind those words is genuinely kind.   
  
He can't think of a reply, so they lapse into a comfortable silence, watching the sky lighten across the water.   
  
Lance shifts, and their shoulders brush, sending a tingling rush through Keith's numb limbs.   
  
"Keith?"   
  
Lance's breath plumes white in the corner of his eye. Keith turns his head. Their faces are inches apart now.   
  
"Yes?" he asks, voice slightly hoarse from the cold.   
  
"I think....I think I'm falling in love with you."   
  
Just like that, the air has evaporated from his lungs.   
  
Keith has never been one for knowing the right thing to say, but _this_ ...this is something else entirely. There's a buzzing in his head as Lance's words reverberate.   
  
_Falling in love... with_ him?   
  
_Why_ ?   
  
Those sapphire-bright eyes flicker across his face, dimming as they interpret his shock as something else.   
  
"I'm sorry," Lance whispers, flushing. "I shouldn't have said that. I–"   
  
He stops talking abruptly as Keith's palm wraps across his mouth.   
  
" _Don't_ ,” Keith says roughly, his hand moving to cup the warm curve of Lance's cheek. "Don't apologize."   
  
And he kisses the boy made of sunlight as the dawn creeps over the horizon.

 

* * *

  
  
  
Afterwards, the journey becomes a blur of secret smiles and stolen kisses. They take every moment they can get, unsure of what they will do once they reach America, where Keith will go to Boston and Lance to California.

Sometimes in the early mornings, they talk of this – of Lance staying to visit or Keith travelling on with him – but mostly they are content to wait. They can afford a few carefree days. 

 

* * *

  
  
_The band is playing_.   
  
Through the freezing air, the children crying in confusion, and his own tears, that is the one thing Keith's frazzled mind really registers.   
  
_The band is playing_.   
  
He stands in front of Lance, their bodies close as he fumbles to buckle the other boy's life belt with numb fingers. _This is happening. This is really happening_.   
  
They'd called the _Titanic_ "nearly unsinkable" when he'd first been hired on. That phrase had fallen admiringly from everyone's lips as they craned their necks back to stare in awe at the massive façade of the ship. Everyone was so proud of that "nearly".   
  
_Damn their pride_.   
  
_Look where it's landed us_.   
  
Keith's hands are shaking, and only partially from the cold.   
  
Suddenly, there are hands cupping his half-frozen face, thumbs stroking away the tears slowly spilling onto his cheeks.   
  
"Keith, _mi amor_ ," Lance whispers, "it's okay. It's okay."   
  
But everything is so fundamentally _not okay_ that a hysterical laugh bubbles up in Keith's chest.   
  
He gives the strap a tug to ensure it is fastened properly, reaches to grasp Lance's warm wrists.   
  
_You should have worn a coat_ , he wants to say, but he loses the sentence somewhere between _want_ and _say._   
  
Gently, Keith moves Lance's hands from his face, holding them in his own. The Boat Deck is so packed with people – most not even grasping what is happening – that no one pays them much mind, so he will allow himself this small indulgence, before…

_Before…_

“We need to find you a boat,” he says, rather than finish his thought.

A stubborn light flashes in those blue eyes.

“ _Me_? No. Us.” Lance's tone is so steady, so final, that Keith doesn't have the heart to tell him what he's going to do.

He steps back instead, tugging Lance along by their joined hands.

They've wasted precious time, and many of the boats are gone now. Fear and rising tension sour the air. Whispers are circulating, the phrase “ _nearly unsinkable”_ borne along like a leaf in a river. Keith ignores them all – whispers, stares, pleading glances and grasping hands – and threads through the crowd to where a lifeboat is loading.

“Women and children _only_ ,” says the crewman overseeing.

“Not me,” says Keith, ignoring the way Lance's hand tightens in his. “Him. He's only seventeen. First class. Think of his mother.”

The crewman seems hesitant, and Keith curses himself for not knowing every crew member aboard this ship by name and background, if only to know how to appeal to them.

“You've lowered other lifeboats with empty seats,” Keith murmurs to him, gaze pleading. “People will die tonight. Don't let him be one of them.”

There is a long, tense moment, in which Keith barely dares to breathe. Then, a nod. Air returns to his lungs.

But Lance is grasping for his other hand.

“Not without you,” he says, voice breaking. “Not without you.”

“You have to. Lance, listen to me,” Keith begs, placing his hands on the taller boy's shoulders. “Do it for your family. Do it for me. _Please._ ”

There are tears in both their eyes, but Lance takes a step backwards towards the boat, away from Keith, his expression pained.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Keith whispers, barely audible over the wails and the band. He thanks God as he watches what may be the love of his life climb to safety.

“Goodbye, _mi amor_.” He mangles the Spanish, he's sure, but Keith can't let him leave without saying it. “Goodbye.”

He steps back into the crowd as they prepare to swing the boat out over the waters, unable to watch.

He can't save everyone on this doomed ship – but at least he could save Lance.

 

* * *

 

 

The choice is clear before him as he sits in the lifeboat, watching Keith go: life or death. Keith has given him a chance for life.

_Death or life._

_Love or loneliness._

Of course, Lance knows love isn't a one-time occurrence. There may be plenty of people out in the wide, wide world whom he could fall for.

But all he wants is the boy he has just begun to let himself love, the boy aboard a sinking ship.

_Life. Death. Loneliness. Love._

They're swinging the lifeboat over the waters now, ready to lower it.

Hands reach for him as he stands, setting the small craft swinging. Keith may have given him an option, but the choice is still his.

Lance makes his choice now.

He jumps, disregarding the shrieks of fear and surprise rising around him, and lands hard on the deck, pain shuddering up his shins.

_Keith. Where are you?_

The steward has disappeared into the crowd. Lance ducks into the throng, eyes searching frantically for long dark hair or a white uniform.

“Keith!” he calls, throwing subtlety to the wind.

Lance finds him in front of where the band plays, hands dangling by his sides. When Keith catches sight of him, his face crumples.

“Not you,” he whispers, burying his face in Lance's neck. “No. Please not you.”

His tears are hot on Lance's skin.

“I won't leave you, Keith,” Lance whispers back, wrapping him in an embrace. “I can't.”

“But you'll die.”

Lance pulls back to look into Keith's eyes – beautiful indigo eyes that had first caught his attention. “Then I'll die with you, _mi amor_.”

“I can't let you die for me,” Keith insists, voice breaking.

“And I can't live without you.”

He kisses him gently, his anxiety of being _seen_ – as different, as wrong, as _broken_ – evaporating in the shadow of death. Lance doesn't care what the men around him think. Not anymore.

Keith's lips taste of tears. _That will never do._

If it is the last thing he does before he dies, Lance wants to make Keith smile again.

Sweeping loose strands of the other boy's dark hair out of his eyes, Lance grins at him.

“May I have this dance?” he asks as the band finishes one song and prepares to start another.

“You may,” Keith whispers, and a glimmer of the sought-after smile flickers across his lips.

Lance slides his arms around Keith's hips, resting their foreheads together, and they sway as one.

“I love you,” Keith murmurs, lips ghosting against Lance's as he says it.

“And I love you,” Lance replies just as softly, “so much. So much.”

The deck is noticeably canting now, but still they dance.

And the band plays on.

 

* * *

 

 

Inspired by [@kriisykins](https://www.instagram.com/kriisykins/) on instagram. Check out the art! It's stunning. I may have fudged some of the details on this, sorry. I'm not a Titanic expert. Find me on instagram as [@zannatinuviel ](https://www.instagram.com/zannatinuviel/)and [tumblr ](https://zannatinuviel.tumblr.com/)as well!

 


End file.
